


To Taste

by inwhatfurnace



Category: ACCA13区監察課 | ACCA 13-ku Kansatsuka
Genre: Baking, Food, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 17:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16391834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inwhatfurnace/pseuds/inwhatfurnace
Summary: “Nino!” Lotta snaps, smacking the back of his hand with the spoon as he tries to steal a strawberry. “No way!”“I’m the royal food taster,” Nino argues, inching closer to the carton, and Lotta laughs before giving him another swat.





	To Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Crown & Crow NinoJean anthology last year, I figured I'd throw it up here too before I forgot. I wrote this because I'm 100% invested in creating situations that might make Nino blush.

“I thought we should try baking for ourselves this weekend,” Lotta says when Jean walks in the door. “It’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” Jean replies, taking a seat next to her own the couch. “What are you going to make?”

“ _We_ , Jean. What are _we_ going to make?”

“Huh,” he says. “I’ll have to look something up.”

* * *

He asks for recipe recommendations at work just before the end of the day, sending Atri, Moz, and Keli into a frenzy.

“You’re gonna bake something, Deputy Chief?”  
“You gotta bring in some for us!”  
“Promise!”

“I don’t even know what I’m making yet,” Jean says as he shuts his computer down. “So? Any suggestions?”

“Something light!”  
“Something fluffy!”  
“Something sweet!”

“I was hoping for something more specific,” Jean replies, but the three of them are off in their own little dessert world. “Fine. Light, fluffy, sweet. Got it.”

“I can’t believe our Monday morning snack is gonna be made by the Deputy Chief!”

“Is me baking really that out of character?” He asks Knot, who just laughs and shrugs.

“Have a good weekend, Deputy Chief.”

* * *

“I was thinking of inviting Nino,” Lotta says at dinner. “To the baking thing, you know?”

“Want me to call him?” Jean reaches for his phone, but she shakes her head.

“You don’t have to do it right now,” she says, but she’s watching him intently. Jean sighs.

“Lotta. Everything’s fine. I promise.”

“I know that! I just wanted to check with you.”

After they’ve cleaned up, Jean goes out onto the balcony for a smoke. Lotta’s not wrong, he thinks. Things are fine with Nino - they still go out for drinks after work, they still map out which bakeries to visit based on their weekly specials - but it’s not quite the same. There’s more there in the spaces between them now. Or maybe less. Or maybe it’s just different.

Lotta corners him when he comes back in.

“We’re going ingredient shopping tomorrow, don’t forget! Do you know what you wanna make?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, figure it out soon! I’m making a fruit tart, if that helps.”

* * *

“Hi, Jean.”

Nino always answers his phone like he knew Jean was going to call before it even rang.

“Hey. Lotta and I are baking tomorrow. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, sure. What’re you two making?”

“Lotta’s doing a fruit tart. I’m still not sure.”

“Oh? Any ideas?”

“The ladies at the office wanted something light, fluffy, and sweet.”

“How about angel food cake? There’s a bakery in Dowa that makes a chocolate one.”

“Typical,” Jean replies, and listens to Nino’s laugh crackle through the phone. “I’ll think about it.”

“You do that. See you tomorrow, Jean.”

* * *

Nino shows up just past noon, with plenty of wine and sandwich bread.

“If you two are drinking all that then you're staying over, Nino,” Lotta says as she takes the Mugimaki bag from him. “No arguments.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Nino agrees as he hands the wine to Jean. “Have you started baking yet?”

“You're right on time,” Jean replies as all three of them head into the kitchen.

“Nino!” Lotta snaps, smacking the back of his hand with the spoon as he tries to steal a strawberry. “No way!”

“I’m the royal food taster,” Nino argues, inching closer to the carton, and Lotta laughs before giving him another swat.

“We don’t need one if we’re the ones making the food,” she says as she shoos him away. Nino retreats to Jean, who’s having a harder time separating the yolks from the whites than the recipe seems to suggest.

“There’re no royals here,” Jean grumbles, nudging his shoulder against Nino’s.

“Yeah, yeah.” Nino watches Jean try maneuver the yolk from one half of the shell to the other for a few seconds, then bats his hands away. “That's too much work. Watch.”

Nino deftly cracks an egg with one hand and lets the white slide through his fingers into the sink, leaving only the yolk in his palm. He gives Jean a self-satisfied smile as he adds it to the bowl.

“Showoff,” Jean says.

Lotta’s tart turns out beautiful - each piece of fruit perfectly arranged, the crust a beautiful golden brown. Jean's cake takes longer to bake, and by the time it's cooled and frosted, the afternoon's almost gone.

“We should do this again soon,” Lotta says after they've cleaned the kitchen. “It was perfect. Thanks, guys.”

They eat nothing but the tart and cake for dinner, and follow it up with tea and coffee, and finally, wine. Lotta calls it a night once Nino and Jean break into the second bottle, leaving them to stare out at the night sky from the kitchen.

“I'm feeling pretty nostalgic, to be honest,” Nino says finally, and Jean smiles, wondering if they're both finally past tipsy. “All this reminded me of your parents.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Like when I used to come over in high school and your mom'd be baking, or your dad'd be cooking dinner. It was nice. This is nice, too.”

“I'll make you apple cake next time,” Jean says as he stands up. “C'mon. I want more.”

Nino laughs and follows Jean into the kitchen, getting out a plate, a knife, and forks as Jean pulls his creation out of the fridge.

“Gotta save some for the office, I guess,” he announces as he cuts a slice. He loads up a fork and then pauses, before holding it out to Nino. He reaches for it, but Jean pulls away.

“Jean?” Nino says with a confused grin. “Don’t tease me.”

“I want to. Just -- let me.”

Nino suddenly looks uncomfortable, like Jean’s offer is one step too far, even for their bizarre, tangled relationship. 

“It’s your job, isn’t it? Aren’t you the royal food taster?” Jean keeps his tone light, but Nino is staring down at the counter, expression closed-off and thoughtful.

So Jean waits.

“It’s not just a job,” Nino says finally, gaze slowly sliding back up to Jean. “I did it for my dad. But I did it for myself, too.”

Jean tries to follow his friend’s train of thought before responding. Luckily, this time it’s relatively easy: a dimly-lit hospital room; the scar tissue on Nino's back that Jean's only seen once; Jean telling him _that's not what Lotta and I want for you._

“That’s good, Nino,” Jean murmurs, and is rewarded with the barest beginning of a flush on Nino’s face. He raises the fork again, and Nino’s laugh is breathy and disbelieving. “Let me, okay?” 

“Just remember, you started this,” Nino warns, before obediently opening his mouth.

Jean begins to feel bold enough that eventually, the fork is abandoned, and he just uses his fingers instead. It’s worth it, for the scandalized wash of red that blooms over Nino’s face, starting at the tips of his ears and disappearing beneath the collar of his sweater.

“Now you’re really teasing me,” Nino says, and Jean grins.

* * *

Lotta finds them in the morning passed out on the couch, the coffee table a complete mess: there’s a half-eaten slice of cake, four empty bottles of wine, and crumbs everywhere.

“You two are ridiculous,” she says as she throws open the curtains. “Do you ever learn?”

Jean grumbles something incomprehensible, turning his face into the nearest cushion.

“Mercy, Lotta, please,” Nino begs as he throws an arm over his eyes.

“You brought this upon yourself,” she replies, and turns on the TV to watch the morning news.

Nino hides his face in Jean’s shoulder. “Make it stop,” he says into Jean’s shirt.

Jean laughs, then instantly regrets it when his head feels like it's going to collapse in on itself.

* * *

“This is incredible, Deputy Chief!”

“You really made it?”

“Of course I did,” Jean replies. “And Lotta made the fruit tart.”

He made sure to bring a slice of each for everybody, and they had all instantly started debating which one to eat in the morning and which to save for the afternoon – even Owl considers it a serious matter. All the excitement seems to make the day fly by, and soon Jean finds himself outside smoking his after-work cigarette.

And there's Nino and his motorcycle, parked right in front of the office.

“So, about that apple cake,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can also find me over on [twitter](https://twitter.com/amyrran) or [tumblr](http://aetheling.tumblr.com/). I'm trying out a [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/aetheling) too.


End file.
